Darcy and I fucked each night after everyone fell asleep. God, covering her mouth with my hand so she didn’t make a sound when she came again and again was the hottest thing I ever did. I don’t know how I’ll go back to my life like none of this happened. Like my soul hasn’t been awakened and shut down at the same time.
The familiar gait and crappy jacket catch my attention. The bloke gets to work on time, I’ll give him that.
I already picked the lock to this metal door I’m leaning against. It leads to an empty warehouse.
“Confirm,” I whisper to Connor on the other end of the phone when Callum’s footsteps draw near.
“You’re a go,” he says. “If it’s okay, I’d like to listen.”
“Nah. Don’t want any evidence of this. See you in twenty-four hours.” I hang up and slide the phone into the hidden zipper compartment inside my jacket.
I let Callum strut past me and wait one beat before I grab him from behind. It’s cowardly to attack a man from the back, but when dealing with a rapist, I do what’s necessary. Andthisis necessary.
He doesn’t struggle right away or yell out. His brain hasn’t caught up yet to the idea he’s being dragged into a dusty warehouse and down several metal steps.
“Hey!” He finally resists, but his words are barely audible.
I have him in a chokehold, like he had Darcy in when he raped her. Years of working my biceps make me a master at this. His dirty fingernails scratch at my jacket, and he’s starting to drool and turn blue.
In the early morning, the utilitarian windows high up on the steel-framed walls offer little light, and our two shadows barely register in the warehouse.
I get to the center of the room where, if this prick gets away from me, I have space to run and drag him back. I dump him on the floor and let him squirm. The lack of air will fuck with his brain for a good five minutes.
It’s all I need.
Through red eyes, he focuses on me. “You.”
“That’s right.Me.” I step on his neck. “Didn’t think you’d ever see me again, aye?”
“What the fuck do you want?” He struggles to speak.
To kill you.
But I don’t voice that. Fortunately for him, he’s not worth the lifelong prison sentence. I plan on being around to protect Darcy. I’m only here to deliver a clear, distinct message.
“You like forcing yourself on defenseless women, do ya?” I reach down and twist the fabric of his shirt until it pinches his windpipe. “You will never touch Darcy again, you sick fuck. Darcy and Sadie are coming with me.”
“I’mSadie’s father. You can’t do that.”
“I. Don’t. Care.” I do. It makes me sick that poor little girl is a product of rape. But she’ll never know it, not if I can help it. Which I will. Today. Now. “This isn’t a negotiation.”
Callum opens his mouth to say more, but I draw my arm back and smash my fist into his left eye. The nose bleeds too much, and I don’t want the mess all over me. The sharpness of his cheekbones bruises my knuckles after the fifth or sixth blow.
After that, I lose count of how many times I punch him, snarling as I become the animal not too many people see. I take satisfaction in how much pain he’s in. His pitiful moaning tells me exactly what I already know—he’s a weakling who’s only tough with women. I drop him to the cold cement floor and watch him writhe in pain and gasp for air.
“Don’t even think about going near her home or her family. Darcy’s dad is mybrother. I protect my family and what belongs to me. If I find out you even pissed in her yard, I’ll be back with my other brothers.”
Callum slowly rolls onto his belly, sweat trickling down his pulpy face. “You won’t get away with this.” He presses his hand into the cement to get up like he still has some fight in him.
“You’re too stupid to understand what you’re up against.” I pull out my knife, twist him over, and press the cold, sharp blade to his neck, immediately silencing him. “Forget Darcy and Sadie exist. As far as you’re concerned, they’re ghosts.”
I want to cut this motherfucker’s throat, but instead, I move the knife to his groin. I’d love to castrate him, stop him from ever raping another woman.
Thinking of my own accident, the bullet I took, and how it made me sterile, I jab him right above the femoral artery.
Callum wails in pain, and I pull the knife out. There’s more blood than I would have liked. I’m far from a rookie in these situations. I know how to cover my tracks.
I kick Callum a few more times in the ribs, partly because he deserves it, partly because I have no other outlet for the rage inside me from losing Darcy to my best friend. Finally, Callum stops moving. Just groans. The flight in him is gone.